1048 hours. Almost time for another
yearly ritual. I cannot remember ever celebrating the New Year at a 'social' New
Year's Eve party; ever, in high school, in college, in our twenties, thirties,
forties, fifties or sixties. Usually I go to bed early. Carol sometimes stays
up to see the NYC ball drop; sometimes she falls asleep beforehand. Winter
Solstice has a more natural and sacred aspect to it. That is my personal and
thus quite unofficial New Year. We do have our pork chops and sauerkraut on New
Year's Day though, so that is our 'official' traditional family ritual to mark
the New Year.
Carol
just informed we that we have a grocery errand to run and this afternoon I have
to take the cat in to the vet to have her nails trimmed. And, we are going to
eat for lunch. A cloudy day as the snow is coming in this afternoon or tonight,
only one to two inches but it will keep the landscape winter fresh and
shoveling light. No need for a snow blower today.
You are ready to work on Dead-8. I do a
little twist in plot (pun intended) to liven it up a bit. - Amorella
Sound good, Amorella. I'm feeling better about it today. I
think it has to do with relative size. Physics allows for relative size but
metaphysics not so much. The small stone in a sandal might 'feel' much
different in such an spiritual space where size means next to nothing.
I just noticed the "I do a little twist" and was about to correct it; however 'will do' is from my prospect not yours. I am remembering Milton's problem with verb tense relative to angels in Paradise Lost. Any conscious species that is immortal-like cannot 'know' tense as humans do. I always thought that was interesting and strangely untranslatable between such a species and our own.
So, under such a conditional, you leave it as it is out of cautionary respect. Thoughtfully understood, boy. Your consciousness is gradually increasing in sensitive awareness whether you like it or not. - Amorella
I don't mind, Amorella. Communication can be a tricky business inside or out. I would rather back away facing your direction than otherwise. Being polite is the best policy where plausible. That's my personal perspective because for me it is morally correct.
You had lunch at Five Guys, no fries. You are waiting for Carol at the Tylersville Kroger's. Let's go to the Dead document. - Amorella
You
stopped writing when Carol walked out the door, drove home, deposited groceries
appropriately, and now you are waiting for Carol who is in line at the Regal
Theatre for holiday tickets for Tim and Amy King who generously take care of
our house and yard when we are out of town.
We arrived home; I stopped to sit down then remembered the cat
appointment. We were late, but since Family Pet Care was busy they hardly
noticed. Jadah's nails are trimmed and Jadah has nothing scheduled until
perhaps May. (1559)
Carol is on the phone with Linda and you need to complete
Dead-8, but first a break. Post this with what you have completed. - Amorella
** **
The Dead - 8
Trees and shrubs line both sides of this river, a river not so
much deep as wide while at the same time a river not so much wide as deep. This
so I Merlyn think. It depends on the angle of my view and the width of my mind.
The narrower the view is the deeper the water. When my heart feels Vivian
within; another heartansoulanmind relaxing peacefully asleep in my heart, then
the deeper I can sink into her own. There is a magnetic-like spiritual energy
that is drawn into us. The mind becomes one eye and the heart the other. As two
eyes add the depth of perception the mind eye and the heart eye also adds a
perception, a reality from which love is but an echo to the actual reality.
This one actual
reality hangs in another setting more dressed by a rarefied intuitive
perception that has little imaginary dressing. This begotten energy is a
passion that has no muscle memory of sexual politics dancing in unwinding toy
spools of unaddressed innuendos. Contentment is being nothing and all. Nothing
and all is no more the depth of this water and width of this river on which I
rest in a small boat of my own making. Such is the contentment in the twinning
of our like souls; whose single ring would shame the size of Saturn, that I
wait to see whose soul next we two, Vivian and I do touch. We are bound in the
cosmos of HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither and HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither is bound
within the cosmos of the spiritual we. This thought Merlyn with contentment,
and then Vivian appeared head first out of the water and climbed into the boat.
"Welcome to my
world, Merlyn. I can tell from your surprise that we are more closely attached
than you thought."
"How is
this?" grumbled Merlyn loving her being, but not so close in spiritual
attachment. "I thought I was alone here in my woods, my private
sanctuary?"
"I have found these dry waters not so private as one
obviously thinks, Merlyn. Call the spiritual waters what ever name you wish
they are the same. When we are not here in our own dried land we are in the
waters whether they be lake, stream or ocean we can swim them if we focus on
our destination." She paused, "But then, did you not desire my
company?"
He smiled away his
brashness, "Not so quick and not so nakedly arrived, my fair lady."
"Me naked
almost always brings you into a smile. How better to disarm your solitary
nature." She brushed her toes as she sat and swept her right arm quickly
to her neck. "How is this?"
A shear silk-like
imagination covered only slightly as it was constructed as a not so modest
see-through toy when Merlyn in a quick rattle of masculinity consciously
desired a secret peek. Such are the wiles of Vivian, the once Lady of the Lake,
the legendary and original Princess of Celtic Avalon. (1345) - 501 w
** **
I
have to say, you did surprise me with this addition. Right out of the blue,
absolutely no conscious clue of what I was going to write. And, when I checked
Vivian on Wikipedia Offline I realized I had forgot she was the Lady of the
Lake, and did not remember she was a Princess of Avalon. I made her the
original princess but who is going to argue a legend in fiction? Plus, coming
up out of the water, who would of thought? At that time I couldn't understand
why, but of course, Lady of the Lake (which comes later) makes perfect sense. Plus,
it is humorous to me that he dreams and pines for Vivian and here she is, in
the spirit and looking pretty 'fleshy' at the same time. Ha! I can just see the
look on old Merlyn's face. This is a very fun write. Thank you, Amorella (1611) [1611
isn't that the date of the KJV publication? I think so.]
It is getting on dusk and you have stopped
at "Google +" several times wondering whether you should share with
it. Here is the problem. Once when you had photos that showed a sense of how
you thought about the heart and soul and mind you published that particular
blog and got a hundred or so hits. Then you wrote in the blog that all those
hits made you too uncomfortable. So, as you do not wish your blog to gain in
popularity, it is better than you keep it in the backwash, if you will, of
blogs, satisfied as you are with sixteen followers. - Amorella
You are right. I do like to see where the readership is from.
It is interesting and a puzzle because I do not understand why some pages get
more hits than others. I am not so social and never was; except I was more so
in the classroom. I don't know why. I am probably a lot more controlling than I
like to think.
You didn't have any problem responding to
everyone on Jean's 'Class of 1960' list about the instant freezing of the bottle
of water. - Amorella
I did not because I had written about that in a blog (but I
don't remember when). I have a copy of the wave on one of the Great Lakes
freezing instantly. I think Rich Grimsley sent it to me. I just asked Doug if
he remembers the blog (and the details on why the freezing happens). I did not
write the name of the blog because that seems offensive to me to do. I don't
really care how many read my blog but it is nice to know that a few people do
from time to time. That's enough exposure to me.
I did find the frozen lake blog: 11 February 2011, "Notes - Trivia / Frozen Thought"
2129 hours. I have completed "The Dead - 8".
Add and post. - Amorella
***
"The Dead - 8" in draft form ©2012.rho
Trees and shrubs line both sides of this river, a river not so
much deep as wide while at the same time a river not so much wide as deep. This
so I Merlyn think. It depends on the angle of my view and the width of my mind.
The narrower the view is the deeper the water. When my heart feels Vivian
within; another heartansoulanmind relaxing peacefully asleep in my heart, then
the deeper I can sink into her own. There is a magnetic-like spiritual energy
that is drawn into us. The mind becomes one eye and the heart the other. As two
eyes add the depth of perception the mind eye and the heart eye also adds a
perception, a reality from which love is but an echo to the actual reality.
This one actual
reality hangs in another setting more dressed by a rarefied intuitive
perception that has little imaginary dressing. This begotten energy is a
passion that has no muscle memory of sexual politics dancing in unwinding toy
spools of unaddressed innuendos. Contentment is being nothing and all. Nothing
and all is no more the depth of this water and width of this river on which I
rest in a small boat of my own making. Such is the contentment in the twinning
of our like souls; whose single ring would shame the size of Saturn, that I
wait to see whose soul next we two, Vivian and I do touch. We are bound in the
cosmos of HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither and HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither is bound
within the cosmos of the spiritual we. This thought Merlyn with contentment,
and then Vivian appeared head first out of the water and climbed into the boat.
"Welcome to my
world, Merlyn. I can tell from your surprise that we are more closely attached
than you thought."
"How is
this?" grumbled Merlyn loving her being, but not so close in spiritual
attachment. "I thought I was alone here in my woods, my private
sanctuary?"
"I have found these dry waters not so private as one
obviously thinks, Merlyn. Call the spiritual waters what ever name you wish
they are the same. When we are not here in our own dried land we are in the
waters whether they be lake, stream or ocean we can swim them if we focus on
our destination." She paused, "But then, did you not desire my
company?"
He smiled away his
brashness, "Not so quick and not so nakedly arrived, my fair lady."
"Me naked
almost always brings you into a smile. How better to disarm your solitary
nature." She brushed her toes as she sat and swept her right arm quickly
to her neck. "How is this?"
A shear silk-like
imagination covered only slightly as it was constructed as a not so modest see-through
toy when Merlyn in a quick rattle of masculinity consciously desired a secret
peek. Such are the wiles of Vivian, the once Lady of the Lake, the legendary
and once Princess of Celtic Avalon.
Merlyn dispatched
his eyes inward from her sight not more than an arm's length away.
Vivian watched in dread as Merlyn's dark pupils rose above and behind those magnificent human
spiritual sockets. His face she herself almost mistook for being flesh borne.
He was that close to her unnatural order of heart and mind and soul. This is
Merlyn's magic, she knew. To change her rightfully ordered spiritual makeup in
such a deep and profound way that she slipped and placed her soul last rather
than the mid-point where it belonged. Merlyn has moved my soul by his very
being.
The mind, Reason's
seat, is out of balance when placed nearest the less reasonable but more truly
compassed heart. The soul, a sticky composition at times runs like marrow
through the spiritual skeleton. It draws her mind one way while the heart draws
her mind to opposition. Who wins in such a warring-like field? The ghost has no
chance but to howl as if a wolf crying to the pale moon.
Merlyn with the
greatest of insight, rolls his eyeballs about and drains his black pupils into
ink molded to letters and words and paragraphs and punctuation so that Vivian
his most passionate love may read and witness him in two dimensions rather than
his spiritual one. To read Merlyn one on one takes great care between heart and
mind and thus Vivian, after the shortest of time finds herself more wholly
together in spirit and the two specters flew wrapped as clasped hands towards
their ancestral mother, Glevema, who was expecting them. She stood by her grandfather, Panagiotakis, the oldest of human shamans in
HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither. No human had deeper human insight than old Takis
himself.
788 words
***
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