Our first symbol,
given to us this year...
was the blue Kingfisher.
We have always believed in signs,
in happenings...
slip-ways and symbols,
that there is a pulsing heart of the world...
the great puzzle box of life,
that manoeuvres us...
and changes,
press the right surface...
and a new world will unfold.
We see the connections...
feel the press of all their spirits,
against our skin...
the energy of everything living,
bolstering us up...
at one point we were something like angels,
but a kind of the seas and wild storms.
Your mind traces the dark forests that surround our home...
and eventually their black and twisted branches,
etch upon your mind...
an eternal mark.
We found the fallen kingfisher...
the pale one and I,
in the deepest part of the forest...
near the place where once we died,
and saw the white stones...
felt the mist,
his claws...
their claws,
the thousands of claws.
It was only distant now...
and hear,
the kingfisher...
as a symbol of Totem,
the kingfisher represents the unseen...
moving forward,
enlightenment...
and was also considered a messenger for such creatures,
as water nymphs...
even the gods.
Now.
A small experiment if you Please...
We are delighted to welcome you to...
iImaginareum Macabrett.
Turn off the music...
Listen instead to ours,
focus in on my voice...
come just a little bit closer,
now sit...
Feel the shadows coil about you,
the wooden, creaking floor beneath your bare feet...
The smell of this place is insatiable,
is it not?
The scent you have always followed...
beyond where your dreams led,
something like musk...
oak,
salty air...
Such a dusty,
ancient smell.
The tune you say?
We have no name for it here...
though it has played throughout our many lives,
but what we do know...
is that the longer you listen,
the more you become...
hypnotised.
Hear the rasping, soft hiss of drums,
the chanting, echo singing that rises about...
the tapping of bone against claw,
against bone...
the thudding of thousands of feet,
a million drums...
beating,
hammering...
rusking,
tapping....
slamming,
shuddering...
each beat, beat, beat, beat, beat, beat....
into your mind.
Tap, tap...
splinter,
tap...
tap.
Now...
take care dear fellow,
for many have become swallowed whole...
by our music,
for it is a leviathan...
the same as our many others.
I want you to imagine something for me now...
if it would trouble you not,
for we are a jester court of dreams and nightmares...
the arts of shaping blank space,
into palaces...
skies,
planets and universes.
Imagine the world...
as a single dark globe.
Towns and cities...
people and beasts,
are lost to our memory...
and a million hundred years of dust,
shift and moan in storms across this expanse...
of world.
It is silence,
absence...
lifeless,
dead.
Now...
you are floating down towards its' surface,
you feel your toes dip into the dust...
it feels like nothing,
less than nothing...
a thousand particles finer than air,
opening about you...
you sink past your legs,
your stomach, your neck...
your mouth,
and finally you are swallowed completely...
you sink down,
further and further...
miles down,
Everest's down...
sea abysses further,
the world blindness and deafness about you...
You sink for months,
until finally...
you reach its' end,
you fall into bitter cold...
and the softest of glowing blue lights.
You land a second later,
falling to your knees...
and sitting up.
You are at the very centre of this dead world...
in a circular room as small,
as a cupboard.
The blue light emits from a single grey candle...
at the rooms very centre,
and the room is so cold...
that you can no longer feel your fingers,
your toes...
your heart.
You glimpse your nails turning blue,
as you look to the candle.
It is then that you see,
beside the candle...
a very large crow,
as dark as the darkest of darks...
its' eyes are the same silver,
of the candle.
It cocks its' head and stares at you,
seeming to smile or glare or weep.
'There is no hope left in this dead world,
but in yours...
in your time,
perhaps.
Here is the riddle I shall impart to you,
that may definitely or may definitely not...
save your world,
from just such a fate.' the crow cried, laughed and shouted.
'Six more of something will come,
then two must die...
and something must be given,
and another thing taken...
before a choice,
must be made...
and a sacrifice done,
before an end will come...
only eyes that are unhindered,
will see the truth of the end...
or else all shall be lost,
and the world as this.'
Come back now dear friend...
from the deep depths of that cold,
dust-filled world...
come back to the warmth of our tents,
take this drink...
warm yourself by our fires,
for travelling so far is bitterly cold upon the soul...
what little you may have.
You have performed excellently well,
upon your first visit...
to,
iImaginareum Macabrett.
We do hope to see you again.
Hey there Darlings,
2015 is here, to be very un-melodramatic. So many strings tie me to what will come from this year, and still the silence persists. The second symbol of my year was the wasp, which apparently represents new beginnings, creation and productivity. I helped the wasp - which was caught in my house - to get back outside. Two animal rescues in two days....maybe I'll get to rescue a dragon tomorrow.
I hope your year is filled with freedom and something like happiness.
Much Love,
Miss CLScarlett xx
