Moving had to be done inch-by-inch. It started here.
Friday, September 30, 2016
Dream for practice
Just because she comes with 'so much fixed' don't mean she can't be coaxed to change. In the dreams the night of Mauli Sal saw the animation of thought. Lines of pale lavender changed direction as she watched. To an unidentified teacher she narrated what she observed: her thoughts changed. There was a nod.
Face down in the bed her shifting jiggled the kaleidoscope. She woke, tweaked and discomforted. Was the dream enough practice? Just in case, a new book waited. The Spice Necklace. It smelled her. she smelled it. Sal began to read.
Face down in the bed her shifting jiggled the kaleidoscope. She woke, tweaked and discomforted. Was the dream enough practice? Just in case, a new book waited. The Spice Necklace. It smelled her. she smelled it. Sal began to read.
Thursday, September 29, 2016
Sam and Sally: Here, not there
Little adjustments were being made on the Mauli Moon, Po Mauli. A good time for health and adjusting thinking while doing. Sam was no less facile with his hands though it had been more than eight years since he began building the golden wagon on a trailer. "He has less teeth today, but his face wears an increasing realness." Frog spoke about the tall man as if his mate were still with him. He knew Bernadette would be listening, and hearing him, wherever she was. This plane, another plane.
Pieces of the trailer had been stowed away. Mold painted the license plate once new when the trailer was first registered. To move the golden wagon from the woods to the gravel lot the license plate could be obscured, who would check? What mattered was that the wheels moved. Sam was attending to that on the Mauli Moon. Clank, clank.
Sally spent a few minutes at her sewing machine, peacefully busy stitching lengths of cloth to replace a favorite curtain she'd brought when the poisonous apple disease moved them across an ocean. A few safety pins held a hem in place, a temporary fix? Well, maybe or a fix for as long as it was needed. Sometimes a pin was better than more permanent stitches.
"Sal has begun a relationship with the Warrior Woman aspects of herself via the asteroid Pallas Athena. It's a new application of star study for her, and seems to be buoying her spirits," Brother Wind felt the lightness in the woman he would always consider Sister, an older sister at that. From his place in the atmosphere during this Season of Lono, Brother Wind visited sending gentle breezes and more gusty nudges encouraging Sal to believe she was flexible enough to move with more ease this time.
There is more.
Pieces of the trailer had been stowed away. Mold painted the license plate once new when the trailer was first registered. To move the golden wagon from the woods to the gravel lot the license plate could be obscured, who would check? What mattered was that the wheels moved. Sam was attending to that on the Mauli Moon. Clank, clank.
Sally spent a few minutes at her sewing machine, peacefully busy stitching lengths of cloth to replace a favorite curtain she'd brought when the poisonous apple disease moved them across an ocean. A few safety pins held a hem in place, a temporary fix? Well, maybe or a fix for as long as it was needed. Sometimes a pin was better than more permanent stitches.
"Sal has begun a relationship with the Warrior Woman aspects of herself via the asteroid Pallas Athena. It's a new application of star study for her, and seems to be buoying her spirits," Brother Wind felt the lightness in the woman he would always consider Sister, an older sister at that. From his place in the atmosphere during this Season of Lono, Brother Wind visited sending gentle breezes and more gusty nudges encouraging Sal to believe she was flexible enough to move with more ease this time.
There is more.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Pele and Frog: Heredity and reputation
"Ka pahu kapu" [] refers to the boundary markers that demarcate forbidden areas. To "kukulu", or erect such stakes would provide a sanctuary for "ka leo," the voice. "Pahu" also means drum, and so figuratively, the voice refers to the sound of the sacred drum, in this case, Pele's crater. To hear an eruption is to hear the sacred and also to have been warned that Pele is ready to exit." - "Mele Komo" Ka Honua Ola, Pualani Kanaka'ole Kanahele
Frog arrived early. He was often early for parties when it came to climatic change. When pushed to explain his predilection Frog was easy with it, "We have very thin skins, very little separates us from whatever is tampering with World. Good or bad? The grandmothers put it this way: it makes no never mind. It will come."
Traveling Frog was a name the old storyteller had once given him when the golden wagon on a trailer was very young. As a nickname Frog was called T.F. Even before Raven returned showing himself to the storyteller as a shadow, the amphibian made himself known with his croaks. Invisible, yet as the voice of the Fire Goddess warns of her presence, so too did Frog.
Raven: Something to say
"They say that do they?" The line was a subtle question coming from his long black beak. Raven knew exactly where he was headed with both the question and his flight. There was just the right balance of sunlight and shade to create shadow. The woman looked up from her walk to see his wings.
She, the woman, did not hear Raven's question exactly. But his shadow was pronounced, a daytime tattoo and a reminder. He was always aware, how could she not know that. The storyteller had fed stories to the land called the prairie front. For weeks throughout the summer talk and tales massaged the possibility of great and different journeys. The Black Shadow Animal watched, listened, and never once interfered. Now though the medicine story which first poured his spirit into the magic had been dispensed... he might.
A season of turns approached and not only did the people have something to say. He would keep his golden eyes on the golden wagon and the old pair. If they forgot the protocol, or conversely stepped too rigidly out of habit? Well, that's what this story is all about.
What else, who else?
She, the woman, did not hear Raven's question exactly. But his shadow was pronounced, a daytime tattoo and a reminder. He was always aware, how could she not know that. The storyteller had fed stories to the land called the prairie front. For weeks throughout the summer talk and tales massaged the possibility of great and different journeys. The Black Shadow Animal watched, listened, and never once interfered. Now though the medicine story which first poured his spirit into the magic had been dispensed... he might.
A season of turns approached and not only did the people have something to say. He would keep his golden eyes on the golden wagon and the old pair. If they forgot the protocol, or conversely stepped too rigidly out of habit? Well, that's what this story is all about.
What else, who else?
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