Sunday, March 26, 2006

Gift of Solitude

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A 'view' of Owl Island
Actually taken near the Antarctic by an unknown photographer

We all need time alone. Even those of us who are social butterflies need some time to ourselves. Solitude is necessary for meditation and quiet reflection. We also may choose to isolate ourselves when we are busy and need to meet a deadline. We may cherish time alone when we want to give ourselves over to art or music, lose ourselves in a good book, or delve into a personal project. Having time to ourselves allows us to focus completely on our yoga practice or get into the zone while running or strength training. Sometimes we need to be alone to simply do nothing but enjoy the sound of silence. Our alone time revitalizes and replenishes us, grounding us in our own company.

Yet, too much isolation, especially when our intention is to hide, withdraw, or not deal with the realities of our lives is not physically, mentally, or spiritually healthy. It is during moments like these when being in isolation takes us away from our lives, rather than enhancing it. If anything, too much isolation can create a buffer whereby we don't have to deal with our problems. Sometimes, pushing ourselves to deal with our issues and be in our lives, rather than isolate, is one of the best gifts we can give to ourselves.

Also, just as it is important for us to have our "alone" time, we need to remember that as human beings, we are by nature social creatures that thrive on human contact. Our lives cannot occur in a vacuum, and we cannot fully live in this world without interacting with others. Consider using isolation as time spent for rest, reinvigoration, and personal growth. Isolation can then not only empower you, but it can allow you to return to your work and your relationships restored and ready for life. from Daily OM

Two of my favourite books are Journal of a Solitude by May Sarton and Gift From the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindberg. I have been enjoying the 'solitude' of Owl Island where I have been sketching and spending quality solitary time.

This week consider escaping from the madness of society, take some 'alone time' and share your thoughts and feelings here, at Riversleigh, lwithin the sanctuary of the Lemurian Hermitage or in the Salon du Soul.

Friday, March 24, 2006

The Tea Leaves Speak

An Invitation

It's time to join the Mad Hatter and Alice along with their friends the White Rabbit and the Queen of Heart for tea. Write a story, whip up some lyrics, include lashings of dialogue, dance to drums or quite literally do whatever takes your fancy….


What is there to see in tea leaves?

Individuals form a unique pattern born of their energy. When energy flows freely through the body and mind, it imparts to the tea leaves a reflection of its light.

When the flow of energy is constricted, or banned from natural channels, the leaves are dense and severe.

I scry the leaves and speak their message; the translations of individuals’ own self, which they are unable to decipher unassisted. Just as physical insults alter the functioning of the organ systems, so do life experiences alter the unique quality of personal energy as it surrounds, enters, circulates, and emerges from each of us. Many avenues have been devised to read the river of energy as it carries the life current of self.

The tea leaves speak this to me.

He wandered casually in the door feigning indifference as he moved among the canisters of tea. I was seated at the window table surrounded by the usual brood of tittering matrons. The power of his energy virtually quivered the tea leaves in the bottom of my cup.

I watched in fascination as they spun through all the days of his existence then rested at this very moment. Oblivious to the surrounding banter, and momentarily transfixed by the revelation before me, I slowly raised my gaze to lock with his. Neither of us wavered as I pointed to the sign mounted prominently behind the counter.

Finally, his gaze shifted in this direction. The room drew silent. Then with ears flattened, he hopped silently out the door. I rose to retrieve the envelope from the floor.

by Beetle Bug

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Mad Hatter Monday - floral arrangements

These wonderful hats appeared in a French weekly review called "Illustrated Fashion" in April 1890.



I have decided to add a bit of my own madness with a view to wearing one of them to the Mad Hatter's tea party


Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Tea Time At Riversleigh Manor


Riversleigh Manor isn’t just a house and it isn’t named for the River that runs below it that dried up and died years ago.

It was named for a family called Riversleigh.

The person who know this story best is named Acantha Deverell
and she takes her tea at Riversleigh Manor by Moonlight. If you’re really curious about Riversleigh and most of the guests here are you could join her and ask her about the Riversleigh Family.

Acantha is always dressed in black and she sits alone in the library
every night as she sips her hot poisonous drink and nibbles on her deadly dessert and admires the little fine bone china cup crafted by her own hand at her Father’s request.

The request came one dark winter many years ago on the night Mr Riversleigh rode out to Deverell Hall and demanded to see Mr Albido Deverell.

Mr Riversleigh stood in the Great Hall and called out over and over again until Albido appeared right behind him where he was warming his hands over a cold dark fire in the massive marble fireplace.

“ Mr Riversleigh what on earth would bring you out on night like this? What am I saying? What on Earth could get you to leave the Manor at all?”

Faxon Riversleigh could barely speak, “ you know why I’m here and I want you to do something about it. That new Sheriff from that town down the river in Duwamish Bay, she’s the reason I’m here. She knows about us and she’s coming for us all.”

Albido Deverell smiled, and Faxon backed up and away from those jagged pointed teeth “ she’s from the Sawajinn Family and my friend there is no getting away from them. Not for people like us. “

“ I don’t care what family she’s from, get rid of her.”

“ And why should I bring the Law and the Warden of Sawajinn into my house Riversleigh when you’re the one with the bodies. My heavens man they’re in the walls and below the floorboards and the River…how on Earth did you manage to kill that?”

“ I did it for you Deverell, I fed you and this nest of creatures you have as a family. “

“ And in return Riversleigh…oh the things you’ve received in return have you forgotten them? You handed me flesh and bone and in return
I handed you gold and jewels and art and immortality Riversleigh. Don’t forget that my friend… the immortality. Nothing can kill you, you and yours will never die.”

“ Oh thank you so much for that, my insane children, my wife has
turned into a living corpse that spends her time in the catacombs
below my home thanks you so much for that. “

“ You’re welcome. I’ve always liked Elizabeth.”

Riversleigh would have liked to twist Deverell’s head right off of his shoulders and he would have if he thought it would have made a difference.

“ The Warden only comes for things that bring attention to Duwamish Bay. She’s ready to take us all to Sawajinn and I have to say, I’m not anxious to go back there. So I’ve made a deal of sorts with her” Deverell sounded very pleased with himself.

“ With the Warden?”

Deverell wasn’t smiling now “ a most unpleasant creature to deal with. She was no sport at all. We’ve come to an arrangement.”

“ What’s going to happen to us? “

“ She wants assurance that you and your family never leave Riversleigh. If I can keep my end of the bargain she won’t take me back to Sawajinn. That foul beast assured me she would take me back piece by piece and to prove her point she killed my wives and staff right in front of me.” Deverell actually choked up and cried out in agony “Do you have any idea Riversleigh how hard it is to find good help now days? “

Riversleigh knew it was pointless to yell or run or beg so he just asked, “ are you going to kill us Deverell?”

“ The deal Riversleigh is to keep you in your house and I think I’ve found a way to do that, in fact I’ve started already.”

There was a mound of ash at least four feet high in the massive stone fireplace and Riversleigh saw scattered around the fireplace lttle gold and silver buttons and small bits of bone.

“ My daughter Acantha is a talented artist Riversleigh and she’s been away learning a new craft. I must say I found it a bit unappetizing but we do what we can to support those we love. Don’t we? She’s learned to make something called Bone China. Have you heard of it?”

Riversleigh shook his head and the floor dropped from beneath his feet.

“Go down to the basement where she works Riversleigh I think you’re going to be amazed at what you can create from a little ash and sand.”

Three months later Acantha brought a set of beautiful bone china teacups and a lovely teapot to Riversleigh Manor. Mrs. Clark, the housekeeper, allowed Acantha into the Manor and she watched as the young woman carefully set the table for tea.

“ It’s a shame Mrs. Riversleigh isn’t here to see this lovely setting. I don’t know where the family is. You know how they are Miss. The Riversleighs have always said they’d never leave this place.”

The delicate cups sat in a ring around the teapot and Mrs. Clark saw that there was one for each member of the family. They were painted with small purple flowers and little raised bumps that looked like eyes rimmed the saucers.

They were strange little things but all the same the Housekeeper felt her hands twitch and she was about to reach for one of the cups when she thought she heard Mrs. Riversleigh calling out to her. Or could it have been one of the girls? How faint and at the same time how close their voices sounded!

Then the sounds were gone.

Acantha brought one of the little cups to her cheek and smiled “ They’re closer then you think Mrs. Clark. Would you care to join us for tea? “

Sunday, March 19, 2006

An Invitation

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Don't Be Late!
For a Very Important Date
"name" Birthday Party
If you're feeling quite MAD
We'll make you right GLAD
On the date that is given below.
Come in foolish Attire
For all to admire.

It's time to join the Mad Hatter and Alice along with their friends the White Rabbit and the Queen of Heart for tea. Create a mad afternoon tea for yourself and set out places for the Mad Hatter, Alic, White Rabbit and the Queen of Hearts. Get in the mood by wearing some foolish attire.

You might devise some large playing cards and come up with games such as
1. Pin the handle on the tea pot.
2. Hot Teapot.
3. Teabag Hunt.

Design clever, totally mad teapots.

Share your day, writing and designs with us. You can do illustrations in your sketch book, make an ATC, design a playing card poster, create a hat for the hat parade, write a story, whip up some lyrics, include lashings of dialogue, dance to drums or quite literally do whatever takes your fancy.

Post your responses at Riversleigh, the Salon du Soul or on your own blogger but do make sure to have your blogger listed here if that is what you choose to do.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Madness at Riversleigh

http://www.dailywriting.net/MadPartyRoom.htm
I tried to play by the rulesI really did, but this is what I came up with for this prompt ( which was TONZ of fun )
So what can I say besides........

Abandon hope all who enter here.....



Do you know what’s buried under Riversleigh Manor? Do you know why it gets so dark there at night even when the lights are on and blazing?

All you have to do is follow the shadows.

Just don’t let them know you’re watching.

At nightfall the shadows break away from the corners and come from under the beds and out of the closets and they creep and crawl and hiss along the cold hardwood floors. They pass over sleeping faces and pull at hands and feet silly enough to stray from under heavy blankets and quilts sewn by women dead for over a hundred years.

They search the attics and basements and linger over places like the front hall where Mrs. Undercroft was found dead and cold with small purple flowers clutched in one hand and more of them falling from her lips.

They pass quietly over the desk where Mr Undercroft took the life of his daughter Elizabeth. He crushed the back of her skull with a small stone gargoyle carved from marble and he held it against her wound as it fed.

Then the shadows move to the attics where Mrs. Undercrofts daughter Bedelia was kept. The darkness liked Bedelia Undercroft and spent hours with her as she gave reading and math and music lessons to children born from Bedelia’s insane and unstable mind.

There were no children with Bedelia in that room.

That’s what the residents of Riversleigh would say; there were no children up there with Bedelia.

They’d cover their ears and chant over and over “ there are no children up there, there are no children up there”. They said that louder when they heard the laughing and chuckling and small voices dutifully repeating Bedelia’s lessons.

Bedelia gave art lessons to her Phantom school children and their dark and twisted images of screaming faces and twisted bodies with to many or not enough limbs were tacked to the walls under little green tiles decorated with the alphabet and ducks.

But the darkness knew those little students that attended Bedelia’s classes, and it was the darkness that took the students away when their lessons were done. Even the Manor’s soon to be gardener Mr Eramus Undercroft (at the time he was simply known as Uncle Eramus) would stop by and watch Bedelia teach her little pupils about bones and hearts and curses and poisons and fear.

Mr Eramus Undercroft who took lives and souls for the pure pleasure of the act (and he knew several dark acts) was stunned and humbled by the wealth of knowledge Miss Bedelia had at her fingertips.

And then one day after giving a long and difficult lesson in something Bedelia called
Sin Eating the carpet under her feet began to buckle and twist and she was pulled down through floors and then the ceilings over and over again until she reached the foundation of Riversleigh.

“ Bedelia, Bedelia teach me what you know,” something said into her ear.

Bedelia couldn’t really answer because her mouth was full of sour dark earth. But she opened her mouth and from the back of her throat she hissed, “ yesss… I'd love too.”

And she taught Riversleigh everything she knew.

She hasn't stopped teaching Riversleigh and she never will.

So now you know what’s buried under Riversleigh and that’s why it’s so dark there no matter how many lights are blazing.

Aren't you glad you asked?

by Anita Marie Moscoso

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

As the squirrel scampers

As the squirrel scampers inside a nearby oak tree you leap to your feet and follow......


"Who is he kidding", I pensively pout.
The size of that hole has filled me with doubt.
His nutty-crammed cheeks barely cleared the slit,
Inside he taunts: "Fatso- you're sure unfit!!"
I swear he stuck out his tongue and pawed his nose,
With each of these gestures my blood pressure rose.
"This renegade rodent ain't gonna mock turtle me,
crashing this circle, disrupting all tranquility.

I spun on my heels and headed back to the ship,
slung my 20 gauge laser onto my right hip.
The moral is clear, better "Be what you would seem to be"
or your liable to get blasted from the trunk of your tree.
A squirrel should chatter, and scavenge hard for next winter,
not be a pain in the butt like a sharp wooden splinter.

by Beetle Bug Coffee Mug

March 13 Not Quite Alice

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You have been sitting within the circle of trees but you are beginning to feel tired of having nothing to do: your book has bored you as it has no pictures or conversation. Momentarily you consider making a daisy-chain, think of sitting under this tree checking to see if the daisies reveal your love of butter. You pick some golden yellow daisies and carefully break slits in the lush green stems. These daisies have nice thick stems and the chain forms quite easily. As you sit concentrating on the daisies you become aware that someone is watching you. A small brown squirrel, with a bushy tail that could easily become a duster, has sat right next to you. There is nothing remarkable about this, for in this part of the world squirrels scamper with gay abandon, busily collecting acorns from the heavily laden oak trees. The fact that the small creature sighs and remarks that "if you are going to come you better put your best clothes on" startles you. You realize that never before have you heard a squirrel speak, let alone seen one pull a watch out of its pocket and comment on the need to hasten. As the squirrel scampers inside a nearby oak tree you leap to your feet and follow......

Begin writing. Do not worry about grammar or spelling. Just write for twenty minutes.