Green-Eyed Stare

Hello, this is Amorella. Jadah popped up to give the camera her green-eyed stare. Whenever orndorff gets this Jadah look he thinks of space aliens, the old fashioned LGM’s. Do you believe in intelligent aliens in the galaxy?

I used to. It is possible but improbable, but the aliens stored in Hanger 51 from the incident in New Mexico in the late 1940’s? No. Wright-Patterson Air Force Base is just up the road, about an hour’s drive from our house. I was at the base a couple of times when I was in ROTC at Otterbein. I don’t remember of ever hearing of Hanger 51 during those days.

What if I told you I have cat-like eyes?

From my perspective, Amorella, the only eyes you have are the ones in my head. Here’s what I think. You are an imaginary but believable ‘presence’ to me. You have no need of eyes, ears, or any other body part. All you need is consciousness.

What about the other sketch you drew? This one? Is my consciousness in the drawing?

At the bottom towards the right, it says “rho 1630” meaning four-thirty, and below is the date: “19 june 87”. I am not sure why I drew it but I did. You were the ‘eye’ but why the long eyelashes I do not know. The scars on my right arm were inflicted but I don’t remember why. It was all psychological and no doubt when I was in a light, self-induced hypnotic trace.

For some reason the shadow of my big toe shows on my wrist just below the thumb. Likewise, the shadow of my arm shows in the lower right hand corner. You were in my arm. This was all new to my consciousness then. I had to adjust to your ‘presence’ even in my imagination. What the shadow is on the iron-shaped piece with my toe sticking out I have no idea. It looks like a cup and saucer above that shadow with maybe an ‘ear’ in cup. 

I remember I drew the sketch because I couldn’t think of any words to explain how it felt to have a presence within. Thirty-one stitches show. I never counted them before. No significance of 31 in the sketch other than there are 31 days in the month of June. Maybe that shadow on the iron-shaped object is really my arm with my hand’s distorted shadow sticking out.

I remember I had the feeling, the intuitive sense, that my mind was in several places at the same time. That’s the reason for the shadows being like they are. I used this dimensional sense in “Grandma’s Story Fourteen” in book one, Braided Dreams.

Here is an example from the story. Grandma has just introduced Lili.

“I am Lili of the mountains. I dance the mountain air to walk cloud tops when I dream of life now long ago to you, but not to me. It has been as twenty years of life, these two thousand of yours, that is how I sense it. Everyone is different though, just like on Earth. Grandma and I get along because we related when I was alive. You have to dance away a piece of your soul before you can talk one on one with the Grand Lady of Nature and our human selves. It has to be without intent. I bent that whisper in the west wind though I sense an east by northeast wind is blowing today.

The two I am telling a story about were dancers as I am. Shu-shu is the pronunciation I like, I am Li-li, and I pronounce Ch’ang as Kay-Eng. This is my story and that is how I will pronounce the names. You read silently so I don’t suppose it makes any difference, but I like to hear the language sing as I talk in my native mountain tongue of your long ago.

         That particular summer of your long ago, I had begun a embroidery project with an emerald green backdrop. Something unpronounceable was in the air when I stared into the green silk cloth. My left foot touched something unseen, a stone I immediately dug up. It was what you would call camel in its color tone. That which was unpronounceable in the summit air was Plenty and Bountiful, at least on its sharp edge. Others would call it goat, but I understood differently, that is why I was a shaman, and the others were not. Understanding is a sense, like smell. It is.

Shu-shu and Ch’ang both smell goat. Shu-shu is my grand niece. Ch’ang loves her and can do nothing about his love. Shu-shu loves Ch’ang, and she can do something about it. She chooses to do nothing. Ch’ang therefore, also chooses to do nothing. Together the two become as a single room, like this stone hut Grandma and I, Li-li, presently stand on. To exert their separate personalities Shu-shu shape-shifts into a doorframe in the west wall. Ch’ang shape-shifts into a doorframe centered in the east wall. The river, a thousand feet below, runs from west to east. A thousand feet above the river, love attempts to construct a bridge between the two doorframes.

         Love is a condition and cannot literally build the bridge between the two. Hearts build bridges. Those stone walls, the west wall and the east wall of this hut, are the rigidity of their hearts to this day. The centered doorframes are the souls of Shu-shu and Ch’ang.

         Li-li took a moment to smile in the moment as she suddenly transported herself to the center of the stone hut where she can see out the two opposite doorframes. In life I could not see both doorframes at once due to the Nature of Things. Dead, I can. This is not a trick, I assure you, smiles Li-li.

         I, the Li-li, think. Each doorway is a Dragon of Plenty and Bounty. Each soul-framed doorway is equal. I, the Li-li, remember. Each doorway is invisible in the Nature of Things. Each doorframe is invisible in the Nature of Things. Each wall is invisible in the Nature of Things. I, Li-li am also invisible in the Nature of Things. Yet, I am writing in the Nature of Things. I am writing in Grandma Earth. Grandma Earth is visible to all who are a part of her. This is how it is, there is nothing that can be done about it.”

**

To answer your question, Amorella, the sketch shows my sense of unconsciousness and consciousness, not yours. Why would it? You are basically imagination personified. As for Grandma's Story Fourteen, I remember enjoying the writing, specifically about the Dragon. 

With this you can better see how and where I, Amorella, gather my story.