The Tree that Grew One Thousand Wings...and, a message from the Sinister Meeting Room...humhumhum

   A quiet road slips into your view...

the trees - their corners - bending down about you,

You forget about the light of day,

as you Turn your back on the meadows and quays...

A sinister tune joins you in your walk,

As the hedges edge closer,

and the Clocks begin to talk,

Fleeting images blur between trees,

and silence is your newly-wed,

A dream, a dream, a bee...

Cloudy moons chase cloudy stars,

and the Fog it drifts...

between the crevices of my mind,

Alice in wonderland,

has divided the two...

and a lined mirror I glance through.

 

 The Sinister Meeting Room calls...

 

 

 

    I can stand as a relatively well-known demon the days where it's all like a shadow weighing me down and blocking out the sun, or the other few days when I just feel great and that life is smiling down at me. But what I can do without is the listless and lukewarm days: the way I felt today in fact. Where it's just an agitated, bored, angry, nothing swirl in my head.

 

    Just give me anything strong to feel...or where there is just a calm, smiling docileness in my mind. 

 

    If you can remember...I referred once to the world and life being like a Chinese puzzle box - and really, this theory has only grown in conviction inside of me as time goes byy - but at the moment, I can feel my place in the puzzle box shifting...and boy it hurts at times. I can sense [like ominous and friendly shadows], both fate and the Brilliance leaning over my shoulders most of the time, one showing me in subtle ways that things really are turning good and far, far better: even if it doesn't feel that way.

   Whereas fate's still there to play the fiddle on my strings and oftentimes set them on fire for his pleasure...but I am grateful.

 

   The fact is [as we all know], change isn't comfortable, and it has threatened me, but I can see the light - as it were - and I'm starting to get excited.

    Mainly, it's with my entire family...all our lives are shifting and taking on a whole new stage. I'm moving house, starting a different position (or really, a more full-time position), at my new job, the possibilities with my writing are opening up way more, and there's a whole bunch more things.

  But life is cruisy...ish. :]

 

  I also FINALLY received (no...not my typewriter yet heehee), but 250 business cards that are designed with my persona C.L.Scarlett in mind. Advertising my writing and pastry work. Whenever I manage to bring myself to actually charge my camera, I'll take a photo of them and put them up here...so, keep an eye out!

 

 

 

These days are grey days Watson...

Cherry days...

and we'll never be that far from them.

 

Ah!!

 

In honour of ludicrous and all things insane in the membrane...

the Sinister Meeting Room has a small mite

of a message for YOU...

Dear reader...

 

If you are in the dark,

about one thing or another...

then listen close and listen hard

There is a new dilemma,

to attend to today,

but before we can continue,

we must fix your own alms,

Stay calm and hum...

Eventually, in an hour or so,

If you keep in the know...

the answer should arise,

But...

indeed

the Cause for this message is clear to me,

We must all venture back,

Down the paths of our mind,

and through the forest one more time,

Ignore the talking clocks,

they won't be of any use to you...

and instead focus on the tree ahead,

Upon it will hang,

approximately one million wings,

and it is your duty,

To pick the RIGHT one...

doing otherwise will result in a badly burnt heart,

yet the right one indeed,

will enable you to soar like a god,

Take to the air and fly straight East,

then turn ever so slightly and head to the west...

There you should find a solitary mirror,

Upon the crest of a Hill,

Land if you please,

and Look deep inside,

What you will see,

determines what will be...

Depending on what that happens to be,

a door shall reveal...

and step through please!

A room should be there

all splattered in gold and you should be able to hear...

a merry old tune,

Go straight right and then straight left,

and turn around twice,

Don't forget the rice!

 

This is the message dear old friends...

the most important thing in life is to laugh yourself dead...

or else if that be,

Too unsavoury for you...

Give back your wings,

and you can well start anew,

For the only way to keep them is to give up yourself,

and Murder your own reflection,

so as to see yourself.

 

Only then can you embrace...

all that is waiting for you.

 

This has been the Sinister Meeting Room, and listen eagerly for the call.

 

 

 



 

   Much Love and Adore, dear ones,

 

   Miss CLScarlett xx

    

 

 

 

 

 



 



 

A Prodesgant Way of Being Blue...

 

  Maybe I'll change my hair to blue...or scarlett red...

Maybe I'll get another tattoo...

you know, this is my tag-line on Deviantart:

 

Red Emperor. Homeland of Coral, Rain and wind. Summer Monkey. Prisoner to the typewriter. My skin smells of sugar and my oven's always warm. I remember the light, so as to not forget that the darkness is only a demon I know...and one day he will be gone. 

 

 So true...

 

You know, I have issues [well that much was already certain heehee], with the idea that shyness means being terrified or unconfident.

 

   It is in ways...but say, for me...I often just don't speak [because I usually say stupid shit when I speak, and get into messes], and I don't always like confrontation true, I don't like people to be unhappy but...doesn't mean I don't have confidence in myself. But...this isn't about me. It's a type of strength in some ways. Listening, watching...I am the guardian...and I'd rather be the one advising and listening from behind the throne than the one on the throne itself.

 

   How messed up is it that I like the idea of a shapeshifting manipulator? That it attracts me. Well...each to their own.

 

   :]

 

    I've also realized that I don't care if the process leading up to my books being published takes years. I want to do this properly, and to go the hard yards. I'm happy to...and as insane as it is, I'll keep at it.

 

  

 

Do you like it? I can envision C.L.Scarlett typing away stories to change and destroy people on this. It's being mailed to me as I speak...and I'm already in love with it.

 

Can I give you a few strange facts about myself?

 

- I could once understand birds.

- I have written 7 1/2 books including ten illustrated documentaries out of twelve of a group of fictional islands.

- I spent a year completing a mural on my bedroom wall.

- I am jinxed.

- Sometimes, I hate myself as much as I love myself...

 

Anyway, enough rubbish about me...and can I be completely honest and say that the whole idea of this Blog was that I really did want to hear from other people I know?

 

I don't care if you only know me through facebook...I just really want to hear your opinion and ideas about everything...as it is, I feel that I'm just talking to myself here. :]

 

Also, of my list of things completed before 'the end of the world', I've gone to the beach more, lost more weight and I'm writing much better.

 

Doesn't matter really.

 

I'll leave you with a small pleasure...and love...

 

 

 

If you want to know what I'm really all about, watch the music video of The Truth by Pnau.

If you've watched it, you'll know what I mean by the scorpian-guy, and that when I tell you that my Sodom is a mix between him and the white Elf prince from Hellboy II: Golden Army, it's true.

 

Also, in case I have never explained who he is fully or if you're new to this Blog, the guy I refer to as Sodom, is this:

 

He is tall, very heavy-set shoulders, [and yes, a six-pack, as cliche as that sounds], white skin, white eyes, white long hair, wears white Arab pants and no shirt but a calf-length white cloak-coat. He is my confidante and tormentor, comforter, teaser...a shape shifter, a demon, a human, inhuman,.

He is Mr. White n S, and many other things.

 

How is it that I trust him more than any other?

 

But he's the closest to my mind, and [ a secret], the more I go through my life lately, the more I realize that the difference between the Cara from my series and myself, is a lot smaller than I believed.

 

But...I love my life at the moment, and as odd as it sounds, I sooo, love the simple process of typing words onto the computer. :]

Anything simple.

 



 

…she held the box up to her ear and shook it gently from side to side, listening for a tell-tale rattle or clink. But instead, she was amazed to hear the tiniest of sounds, so distant and strange that whenever she tried to think of it later, it was almost impossible to remember. The closest she could get was to imagine a waterfall of stars tumbling through space, each one splashing silver notes into the darkness…

 

Steve Voake - The Starlight Conspiracy

 

¯

 

Its’ song came to me in the deepest of nights,

with the softest of tunes - it spoke to me of eternity, of starlit, lavender nights and oceans filled with planets…

Its’ eyes saw the depths of all knowledge,

the depth of each heart - each waking moment…

Cool waters tumbled as chimes through a million mirrors into my ears - its’ dark coolness lighting up an unseen path…

Beads of water, shining like the sun, streaked through the sky - the object dancing and filling my mind with its’ soft, caressing notes of insence devine…

Taking me into a world of colours as I gazed upon it…

…the most beautiful object in the world.

 

Cara Lee Scarlett - The Most Beautiful Object in the World.

 

Captive...these are two poems, one I wrote, inspired the other and both a love of mine. Listen to Enigma, if you want epic music...

 

Much Love,

 

Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 

 

Sweet Dwarka...

I have boarded the sailing ship,

a Hop-skip and a Jump away,

at the Edge of that ocean,

that is always in my dreams,

I have gone to the place far east from the west,

Where I have a new name and no tale,

We are children built for stories,

and we have fabricated our world,

Using them as our bricks,

We were made for new seas,

and new mountains and lagoons,

and I have turned my back on everything...

to follow them now,

Glance for me in the 3.30 cool

and the amber shadows, I will dwell...

Peace of heart,

Peace of mind,

If you wish to call me,

 look for the red phone upon the highest hill...

I am in-between worlds now,

and their embrace is cooling,

I have unchained myself,

from the cold hands of time,

and now I lie...in a familiar place,

A home...

Where the streets are pale,

and the city has walls,

the waves' crashing follows you

wherever you go,

and you are reserved a place,

from before you knew you were looking...

and it is a guilded life you have given up,

exchanged for a heart.

 

...7 million palaces of gold,

On sweet Dwarkanoth by the sea,

Make your quest by its' way,

Until you find me...

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

Sometimes the stars seem to fall around me...and sometimes I think that I'm the one tearing them from the skyy.

 

 

 

   Talk next time cherubs,

 

    Miss CLScarlett xx

The Sewn Dial and the Ace of Optional Spades...

       Hi darlings,

       Miss Scarlett here...

       I have so badly missed writing these Blogs and I know it's not very enticing...me deciding to write my entries only once every week or perhaps twice.
       Not consistent enough to keep you, heyyy?

       :]

        There are reasons. Mainly it's that by the time I get home from work at sweet Seaworld Resort it's almost 11:30 at night. I've learnt that every moment, I need to savour. The smallest things and joys such as sunlight and watching goats eat gives me tremendous joy because every day almost is just go-go-go for me now.
       I don't mind really...and for perhaps some strange sick reason I enjoy all that stress and emotion-boiling work. It certainly gives me more inspiration when I do get to write and...yes, makes me appreciate everything more: and not think about all the scary-deep-dark shit I usually do.
 
       I have to say though that despite what I expected, even though I am unable to spend whole days trying to write, my writing habits have improved. I know now that I am truly a writer and that it is my true vocation and what I want to be remembered as. This is the mark I want to make on the world: and I'm willing to get there however I can.

       Every spare moment I have in the day and night I'm writing or working over my stories...I probably should be getting more sleep - and as it is I feel like a zombie mostly all of the time harhar - but I need as much time as possible. But it's shown me that I do care about this whole lifestyle.

     As well as this I've printed the first copy of my re-written first novel and I have asked my Dad and my brother to go over it: and myself. Then I will get it professionally edited and proofread and then start the slow process of submitting it to publishers and agents.

     This will work.

    I even ordered 250 business cards that advertise my writing and Pastry work under my pseudo name: C.L.Scarlett

   This comes along...with their own engraved holding case heehee.


   I've been thinking lately that...there are so many stories that I wished that I could have written. Alice in Wonderland is definitely one of them...and I'd be honoured even to know D.J. MacHale!
  But I once read somewhere that there are two kinds of writers...

    I can't recall the exact terms that were used, but the basics of it was that the first type writes with the aim of earning money off their work, being famous, having all the glitz and glamour and all the rest that comes along with that. (Sounds fabulous no?)
   The second is the more traditional kind: the sort of person who turns their nose up at any advice, and who will slave away at their typewriter or computer, forgetting to eat or do anything else...and they don't so much care for the publicity in any way...more it's the writing itself that is their oxygen.

 
    Sounds like two sides to the same coin right? Which are you...which am I? Heehee...I think in the end it doesn't matter, and that the only point to the matter is that as long as you need to write in some way, and your work is good (aka, others have said so...or you know it, in honesty), then you're a writer. I've found though that regarding the two types above, I tended to lean towards the first (even though the second was more romantically fixed in my head), in that I want my name to be known and for people to be delighted by my work...for it to be an enjoyable read.
   However, because of that I kinda struggled with getting myself to write when I wasn't being paid for it. (I know, low hey?) It was merely a twinge-thing, but...I began (probably when I decided to re-write my series' books), that I needed to write without worrying about the fame or fortune or whatever, but to just write anyway even if sometimes there seems no point to it.

   Really though, I think there's always a point to it. :]

   I believe this so much now...and especially, it's surprising myself how much I really want to get to the stage where my book is being distributed across the world and I have a properly published hard copy of it in my hand...or paperback. You see I have begun the tentatively mind-destroying-stage of compiling a list of publishers and agents across the world that publish in my genre (which is Sci-Fi, Fantasy, novella), as well as writing down all the information on their submission requirements. There's sixty-one publishers I have to get through, that's how insane the list is!

   If you think I'm insane for going about such a long venture well...maybe I am, but I really do want to do this, and I'd rather go the long-miles than have a quick-fix. I want it all to take me a while, and to complete this properly.

   Ah! And in honour of enhancing my writing and mindset, I have purchased a rose coloured Elegant Typewriter. It's a fabulous looking thing, and I'll post a photo of it on here when I receive it.
   Maybe it is old-class, and I don't even see how it will be practical when it's so much easier to write on the computer. But...I'm a glutz for traditions and romanticism, and honestly :] , when I was looking at all the typewriters for sale, it was interesting.
   There were sorts that were huge and black and monstrous...I could easily see Stephen King writing one of his novels on them...their incessant clacking burrowing away into the late hours of the night. :] A cigarette dangling from his lip. For a small instance that attracted me (and hey, I haven't decided against the idea of actually buying smokes just so I can puff away as I write.
   But instead...I kept thinking...I need something that's me or rather, Scarlett. So I found this typewriter, and I can imagine myself typing stories on it. So...I'll figure out something. :]

    Here's the insane and rather irrational dream I have though, in regards to my writing:

   Perhaps have a casual day job (very casual), that earns me money but that most of my money is earned through my writing. I would live in a small, relatively basic place by the sea, (I don't care how rustic...in fact, the more the better), and I'd live a simple life with a cat or two and my typewriter...(and laptop of course), typing away my days, smoking an exotic cigarette or two and with a bottle of writers  prerogative. Yess...maybe one day...somewhere.

   But for now I'll live the life I'm living, and really...it isn't all that bad heehee. :]


  I'll end this Blog and let you go back to your normal lives, but I'll leave you with this relatively small thing.........

    Creaking...

They softly waver,

and the creaking grows louder

 

I was sitting alone in my house one night when an apparition caught my eye,

I had been reading the story of Jekyll and Hyde,

with a cup of Moon-Tea to devour,

I looked up from the words,

that crawled and scrawled like spiders,

and glanced over at the turn,

between both corridors near the urn,

Emptiness devoid met my eyes,

yet still the noises rose,

Until it was all I could hear,

and so indeed I leaped to my feet and inclined my ear,

Hoping to disbelieve...

Yet worry not,

though I had forgot,

to glance in the other direction as well,

and presently so...and you ought to know,

that I turned at once and froze,

Upon a most peculiar sight,

that filled me with strange delight...

The floor stretched before me,

shining its' odd wooden glow,

and from between the tightly wound floor-boards,

Something appeared to grow...

They crept up between the latticework

and miles and miles of dirt,

to hatch into the air with slender blue stems,

and bursting crowns of blood-rose red,

A hundred creeping vines,

Hatching from the woodwork,

Until my feet were covered in petals,

and silent I was...I had become,

at this Heavenly invasion of floral ones.

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

I will try and write again soon,

 

Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 

  P.S. Mr. White n S seems to have temporarily gone on leave from my life...at times a shame, though sometimes he will still whisper to me. However he seems to be keeping very quiet. [Too quiet...]

 

   Yess...too quiet Scar...

 

     dear dear, tut tut...