Tuesday, 21 February 2012

Cried The Lady of Shalott ...

'She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.'

John William Waterhouse - Alfred Lord Tennyson


Tales from The Treehouse

All the doors are locked, which leaves me only with the window, a window which is shrinking. If I take all my pictures down, no longer a name, no longer in want or in memory - the doors' locks may become undone but what is left on the other side would become less desirable than before when clouded by ignorance. Because now it's accessible? surely that would make me dense? ... if then i did walk out the door, or climb from my window, with nothing out there to face anymore, no desire or fear just the non-picture of what I had not become but had reverted back to, of a world that is the same, what would happen then and where would 'I' go? would it even matter; you tell me that anywhere is everywhere, vice versa and each and all are in our minds. Nothing becomes important ironically as importance isn't found anywhere anymore. When we unravel all misconceptions, conceptions and everything in between we are left with nothing, left to exist either as part of or inside/outside the room with no-one else because you've worked out that you are both and all the same, the same as the room even; you and all have become everything and nothing in one, like what you always were; Abraxas? As this all grows inside and around I have no idea how I feel, because feelings have all been subdued by thoughts that question right back to the root and on answering make the original feeling vanish altogether and subsequent questions pointless, is this even possible? I told you magic is shy, but right now it's deafeningly loud... pass me a sedative.

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

Ode to St Valentine, whoever he is...

We loved with a love that was more than love ~ Edgar Allan Poe

* Ode to St Valentine Flutterbydaisy collection *

... Beautiful Macabre; heart shaped Etsy findings ...

Where to find them : Art Print : Heart Illustration : Doll : Girl Print : Necklace


Tales From The Treehouse

... something more than can be understood from down here, just felt and overwhelmingly so. There was a song and she sang about what I know it is now, swirling to the sky, I now know because I can feel it; a locked box of erratic moths. I can say the things you say I can't because they are honest, though the future is no longer there not even the then or now because time's not here anymore, it's forever and not at all in the same breath, because that's what complete feels like. I won't wonder and wish or wait and worry; the words are fading into nonsense as I write them beside time and compulsory because they aren't real either; word patterns:thought patterns, pass me an eraser; delete them all... imagine the paper illimitable, not bleak, just positively blank.


Wednesday, 8 February 2012

Time Warp Trips around with you...

Tales From The Treehouse

... were nicer than everything else; following the white rabbit to magic mini bars, we're late! we're late! getting lost through the wardrobe drinking fuzziness, making concoctions... venturing down was like an old boat where the film was showing just on time before the dark came and they started to dance, we dance too. Coffee, coffee and more coffee... and then it started to snow, we couldn't play though; we left our snow boots at home. Everyone was there and no magpie came, no note on foot, he didn't want to warn us of anything at all; there's a first time for everything... wherever we ended up was sparkly even when it wasn't, because that's how it is now and it's much better than anything that came before. London didn't leave even when we did... we found our own northern lights that are just the same, and brighter. We found a back in time tea room, with a piano, and the Ballet was a dream, though not as deep as the ones I've seen, but I'll take you there, don't worry. At least the orchestra were all dreaming along, off beat but swaying. In my bag just now I found this little green potion bottle I bought when we were lost in the antiques hiding hole, I put it on my shelf, it's waiting for more curious bits and bobs I'll collect and find in all the following tomorrows. Home and a whole day went by in a second... a really long second, one of the best seconds I've ever spent. Feels strange now I had to put a pillow there. love.
1. Calloh Callay, London; 2. The Artist; 3. Betty's Tea Room, York; 4. Moscow City Ballet, Swan Lake, York Barbican; 5. One of my Magic Shelves.