You did work some more but are reluctant to post the material on the blog because you don't think it is up to par. The sun has risen, Carol is downstairs, the bed is made and within two hours you will be on your way to Westerville.
0758 hours. It is so much more pleasurable to edit with the iPad I am not sure why, but it is. I have been working the introductive pages to the point they are more to my satisfaction and I have placed automatic page numbers (Roman numerals) on the intro, etc. and auto numbers on chapter one. so it will look more like a finished book. The published works have the title on the left page and my name on the right page. That seems a little much to put on the left and right of each page.
For now put the title on the left and ©2012.rho on the left for consistency. - Amorella
2032 hours. I tried that before we left. It did not work. I'll just keep the page numbers for now.
Grandma's Story is far enough along to expose in the blog. Perfection is not the intent and you still have time before we place the first two chapters on the blog. Tonight and tomorrow we can work on "Diplomatic Pouch'.
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Revised
Grandma’s Story – Two
Grandma traces your ancient genetic Eve’s DNA through various shamans or storytellers because they understood Merlyn's use trancephysics though not by that name. Trancephysics is a vehicle Merlyn uses to slide his mind into the heart of Captain Lamar, which is really the heart of Richard, the younger brother of Robert. Think of it as a retro-quantum entanglement setup. No modern physics involved, only the time-tested qualities of heart and soul and mind. Sir Phillip Sydney a tolerable Elizabethan I poet created a quiet line about it in a poem titled, "Arcadia":
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given:
In modern times some physicists suggest that the properties of light and of thought have similarity. It is possible in quantum mechanics for a particle may be in two places at once, in an entanglement. Merlyn sides more with the poet though he knows more about quantum mechanic. Anyone who has ever been deeply in love has experienced the same thing as Sydney so eloquently describes in those two lines above. One doesn't need a degree in modern physics to understand what love might capture from one human being only to end up sharing it fully with another. Merlyn can share his mind with another but only through his heart.
*
This second story I have for you, noted Grandma with the flash of her left eye in a wink, is told by a descendent of the old man mentioned in Grandma's first chapter.
The shaman who told his audience they could be out in the stars and here on Earth at the same time. He traveled to the Place of the Dead too. Odd that the listener who asked the question would die first, but she did. The shaman lived another ten years after she died. She drowned in a then nameless river. The woman had been his granddaughter.
A direct female descendant traveled from northern Italy to the Spanish and Basque regions about fifteen thousand years ago, and within the next five thousand years of generations, another direct descendant found herself on the British Isles in a strong Scot and Basque mix. More than another two thousand years later, in the eighth century before the common era, a shaman appeared on the Isles who had some tall tales about Mother Earth and the Nature in human beings.
This particular shaman spent a great deal of time walking the woods and daydreaming north of Salisbury Plain and southeast of Scotland. The shaman dreamed a new story. He was five when he first had the dream but when he awoke, it wasn’t there. The next night he dreamed it again and thought about it for the next fifteen years. The annoying and persistent vision centered on a rebellion in the Place of the Dead. This is what he told the tribe:
“The cold, icy fingers of the Dead want to feel their way back home to Earth our Mother. The Dead do not have to go all the way to the Stars in Heaven. The Dead are still among us.”
He related this to others and said, “If you cremate the Dead, their bones will be blackened like the night. They will not have to see their bodies rotting and the animals won’t dig them up, and the quicker they will be a part of Mother again, and best of all, they will have no icy cold fingers reaching out to us the Living.” He continued, “You can close the burial spot with stone. Stones don’t move so easily as the spirits do.”
A short story, don't you think? This shaman also became interested in crystal. He had found himself in more than one cave with crystal. Crystal, he believed, was a piece of the skull bone of Mother Earth, and when he held it, the piece of crystal skull produced a vibration this shaman could feel in his fingertips. A small piece of crystal in his left hand produced an empathy with whom or what he touched with his right hand. With the crystal in one hand, the shaman could sense a movement within particular stones with the other hand and the low vibration held the feelings of the Dead. No one knew this wasn’t possible, so it was.
The stones never move themselves, but people claimed that with the right crystal you could sense the stone moving within itself as people move within themselves. People have a spirit and so do stones. That was the logic. Eggs like fragile stones can appear dead on the outside but be living on the inside. People can appear living on the outside and be dead on the inside just the opposite of a pebble or stone held in the hand. Stones and people have that in common.
*
Grandma smiled with a knowing wink and continued with her story. The crystal worked its empathetic magic on human beings. It worked for the shaman so he told it as a true story. Stones are like bones. You line them up true and right and there they lie, that’s the truth of it.
Grandma glanced beyond the dark sky above. The white in her eyes could tell you her dark pupils were disappearing inside that earthy head of hers. I got me the chant, she said, takes us from a past to a future. She sang the following words then returned into the fuller Nature she is.
From two ancient human hearts by the soul made singing
Return this story to where passions are ringing
This well known druidess and druid will do
In the same spirited body that make up you.
Within the corridor where stirring memories show
Vivien and Merlyn now on Charon’s ferry flow
And from this old Grandma’s toothy gums
Something oddly familiar, in this way comes.
*** ***
This has 977 words I cut it down from (what?) - I can't believe it, a variety of changes and it is still 977 words. What would be the odds?
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Original
Grandma's Story 2
Grandma traces Eve’s DNA through various shamans of old. Why shamans? The shaman or storyteller understood what I call trancephysics. Any reader who finds herorhimself immersed in a good book or as a moviegoer discovers herorhimself immersed in a good film, understands what trancephysics is. Trancephysics is the vehicle Richard Graystone uses to place himself onto Captain Lamar’s ferryboat to ride into a past, a present, or a future.
*
This second story is told by a descendent of the old man mentioned in the first chapter, the shaman who told his audience they could be out in the stars and here on Earth at the same time. He traveled to the Place of the Dead too. Funny that the listener who asked the question would die first, but she did. The shaman lived another ten years after she died. She drowned in a then nameless river. The woman had been his granddaughter.
A direct female descendant of hers traveled from what is now northern Italy to Spain. This was about ten thousand years ago, and within the next thousand years of generations, she had found herself on the British Isles with people now called Basques. A few had settled on in lower Western Britain. As the families grew, some moved on to Ireland. Others to Scotland and Wales. More than five thousand years later, a shaman appeared who had some tall tales centered on Mother Earth, the Sun, the Moon, the Stars, and the Nature of human beings.
This particular shaman spent a lot of time walking the woods and daydreaming north of Salisbury Plain and southeast of Scotland. The shaman dreamed a new story. He was five when he first had the dream but when he awoke, it wasn’t there. The next night he dreamed it again and thought about it for the next fifteen years. The vision settled in on a rebellion in the Place of the Dead. This is what he told the tribe:
“The cold, icy fingers of the Dead want to feel their way back home our Mother. The Dead did not have to go all the way to the Stars in Heaven or even to the Moon. The Dead among us.”
He related this to others and said, “If you cremate the Dead, their bones will be blackened like the night. They will not have to see their bodies rotting and the animals won’t dig them up, and the quicker they will be a part of Mother again, and best of all, they will have no icy cold fingers reaching out to us the Living.” He continued, “You can close the burial spot with stone. Stones don’t move so easily as the spirits do.”
This shaman also became interested in crystal. He had found himself in more than one cave with crystal. Crystal was the skull bone of Mother Earth, and it produced a vibration this shaman could feel in his fingertips. A small piece of crystal in his left hand produced an empathy with whom or what he touched with his right hand. With the crystal in one hand, the shaman could sense a movement within particular stones with the other hand. No one knew this wasn’t possible, so it was.
The stones never move themselves, but people claimed that with the right crystal you could sense the stone moving within itself as people move within themselves. People have a spirit and so do stones. That was the logic. Eggs like fragile stones can appear dead on the outside but be living on the inside. People can appear living on the outside and be dead on the inside just the opposite of a pebble or stone held in the hand. Stone and people have that in common you see.
*
Grandma smiled and winked. The crystal worked its empathetic magic on human beings. It worked for the shaman so he told it as a true story. Stones are like bones. You line them up just right and they lie, that’s the truth of it.
Grandma glanced beyond the dark sky above. The white in her eyes could tell you her dark pupils were disappearing inside that earthy head of hers. I got me a chant, she said, to take us from a past to a future. I am the board on which the Shamans dance. Grandma rushes from past to future, just like young lovers do. She said:
***
From two ancient human hearts by the soul made singing
Return this story to where passions are ringing
This well known druidess and druid will do
In the same spirited body that make up you.
Within the corridor where stirring memories show
Vivien and Merlyn now on Charon’s ferry flow
And from old Grandma's toothy gums
Something oddly familiar this way comes.
***
Surely the computer miscounted or I left something out.
What should be your concern here is that it is now better written than it was the first time around. Later, Dude. Post. - Amorella
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