Organisms, Or What the Fat Lady Does

I’m sitting here, it’s nye yet two-thirty in the morning (three after editing, yeesh), and I can’t help but chuckle.  Fatigued beyond belief, yet more conscious than I’ve ever found myself, and, like many a person in this day and age, what do I do?–I come here!–to share this with you.  “Lol” does not even begin to sum it up.  If I could only tell you in full what just happened.  I can’t, partially because I’m slightly bashful–but only slightly.  However, I also kinda want to keep it clean around here.  I’m just too amused with myself not to share this.

I’m sitting here, dreaming–what else is new?–and, all of a sudden, I am so filled with the emotion of the dream … I am so without control over myself that I just burst into song.  Not just any song, mind you, Olivia Newton-John’s cover of “You Made Me Love You!”

Worry not friends, I shake my head at this silliness along side you.  Buuuut, I do have a question?  Anyone else do this? (Besides Rhiannon)  This isn’t a unique occurrence for me.  I burst into song all the time.  It’s like they told us in college: the REASON there is song in musicals is the emotion has come to such a height the story has no choice but to continue thusly.  The same must be true in real life.  I guess, what I’m asking is … *Is there anybody out there..?*  (Name that tune … again, besides Rhiannon … too easy)

The Sound of Music | Key to World Peace

There is an occult magic in this world so rare and precious it is little heard of today.  Uses for this magic include taming wild beasts, a fast-track cure for the common cold, and will (undoubtedly) be used to usher in world peace.  It is a well kept secret, but I’m prepared to share it with you all today.  That secret is the voice of Julie Andrews.

Most of us have heard at least one Andrews song in our lifetimes.  I’d even venture to say 90% of those songs are from The Sound of Music or Mary Poppins.  It is my opinion there is nothing Andrews’ voice can’t cure–especially choosing from these sources.  I was thinking about writing this post when my sister posted this video on Facebook, thus reinforcing my point:

The way the people react at seeing these dancers just coming out and doing their thing … there is such diversity–and just joy.  My day was made when I saw this video.  It’s evidence that the spirit of Andrews and her music is still strong in the mind of the world!

Taking a leaf from the Jedi Warrior’s Handbook, the military should play THIS at all the “bad guys” of the world!  Soften them up, lighten their hearts, and just plain get along.

*sigh*  I realize I’m dreaming big here, but “wouldn’t it be loverly?”  Take a moment and dream it with me.  Start singing your favorite Julie Andrews song, and do something nice for someone today.  It can even be from her other material!  There are TONS of GREAT songs in Victor/Victoria and Thoroughly Modern Millie and My Fair Lady and … *goes on ad nauseum*

*EDIT*

Alright, I found something else (of course).  If all the above videos have not made you happy, then perhaps this one may.  This features another one of my favorite actors from childhood, Gene Kelly.  Thanks, Mom!

I Love J. K. Rowling … and Joey

I, Joey, have taken the liberty of rewriting this conversation (which happened through AIM).  It’s more fun this way. Haha!

Sitting at their respective computers, the dual headed creature of R. J. Spindle ponders and dreams of their future.  They are talking about their favorite books, and how much fun it is writing their commentaries.  Joey perks up and says how he can’t wait to hear what his readers have to say about their stories.

“I wonder how many ideas JKR got from her readers?” Joey says.

“We’ll ask her someday,” answers Rhiannon.

Joey plants a devilish grin on his face, “And then I’ll say, ‘Here’s another idea from a reader … write another Potterverse book!’”

“NOOOOW,” Rhiannon bellows.  “SIT–HERE is a pen–GO!”

“Haha!” says Joey.  “We’re going to be SO cheeky.”

Rhiannon lets out a cackle, “Poor British Rowling isn’t going to know how to handle us.”

They both laugh heartily.  Then, Joey expression becomes serious.  “Something tells me we’ll both be slightly terrified at the same time.”  He sticks out his tongue.

“Hell yeah,” says Rhiannon.  “but I’ll channel it into being even giddier … like a do.”

Joey laughs again, and starts bouncing around his bedroom.

“And she’ll be like OMGCRAZYAMERICAN!”

“AAAAAAAAAH!” Joey runs and hides under his bed-covers, frightened by the loud noises coming from the Rhianno-Monster.

“And she’ll fight me with a handbag that she stole from the queen!”

Joey then pokes his head out from under the blanket, not being able to resist adding his two cents, “and I’ll be like, ‘HEY! YOU CAN AFFORD TO BUY YOUR OWN … leave the poor queen alone.’”  He sticks his tongue out again.

Rhiannon then lies on the floor, defeated by a fit of giggles.

And that, my friends, is you’re normal, everyday, conversation between Rhiannon and Joey-seph.  Thanks for reading!

The Invigorating Cold

So I woke up this morning and was rather thankful I didn’t have to go into work until two o’clock.  The weatherman warned about cold, and when I woke up, and saw the crystal clearness of the sky new it’s beauty had to come with a catch.  It had to be freezing.  Happy I was to not be going out in it.

Ha ha! Sayeth the universe.  I was out the door and on my way to the grocery store.  My cupboards nearly bare of easily prepared foods.

Pulled on my coat, gloves, and earmuffs, then I lowered my head to the wind and speed off in the chill.  About halfway to the store my eyes made it skyward–they so often do–and I saw, again, the crystal blue of the sky.

In that moment I was awake.  The cold livened my sensed and I had no thought.  There was just me, and the beauty of the day.  The cold facilitated my appreciation.  It woke up every part of my physical body, making me completely aware of my connection to everything around me.

Does anyone else out there have these personal realizations about being connected to your surroundings?  I want to hear your stories!

Change Stalled

After I got back from that mystical place–the place I was last time I checked in with y’all–the wind died down.  I looked at my alarm clock sitting across the desk, and notice I had three hours before I had to be at work.

This is the segment in the story an author usually skims over.  Days passing days.  Nights mix together in wonderful harmonies of time passing, then you get to the next part of the story.  It’s been days since I found the next chapter in my personal Taftkan adventure.

Maybe I should try calling out to Change.  He’s really attractive; I might get lucky.  Then again, Change can be a bitch.  If anyone was bi-polar in the world, then it would be Change.

Previous

Change Is In the Air

I was nearly finished with chapter eight.  My pen trickled ink down the front of my shirt as I scratched the story into the parchment pages of “The Taftkan Marterials”.

A wind blew the French, glass windows open.  They were behind me.  I wasn’t sitting on my bed, writing, like I was.  I was at a desk in a small office, lit only by the sun shining through these glass panes.  The book was whole again; the pages were rejoined with the leather binding.

I closed the book, the golden lettering smiled up at me.  I caressed the imprint of a Dragon–my Dragon–Forest Moon.  The wind blew again, and I could hear the tinkling of Christmas bells on it: a sign of magic calling.  I went to the open window and gazed at my garden.

I wasn’t in Taftka.  Or maybe I was, I am never sure when I come to this place.  This place just calls to me, and I am there.  I never have to think to come here, like I do with Taftka.  The doors in this place have taken me both back home and to Taftka.  Maybe this is some place in between.  It is a solitary place; I never find anyone here when I am.  There are signs of life all around the place, though.  Beds unmade, sinks full of dishes, and half finished sculptures just to name a few.

The wind was magical, I could taste it.  And the wonderful music it made as it caressed the trees.  It nipped at my nose when it flew across my face.  Destiny had called for a moment of silence.  Thankfully, I found it.

Previous | Next

Having It Out With Change

Despite the wondrous light in the grand foyer there were many shadows to hide in.  My eyes gazed at each, waiting for the seemingly empty room to suddenly reveal it self for what it really was.  A room with an occupant, and an important one at that.  My suspicions proved to only be nerves, when Change – in his long hooded red robe – descended the staircase in front of me.

His face looked very much like a man.  His golden hair hung straight just below his neck, and his earthy brown eyes held multiverses in their gaze.

“Your time has come,” said Change.

“So the sign said,” I answered.

“It’s waiting for you back home,” he said.

“What is?”

“Your destiny,” said Change, extending a hand.  “Come, I’ll take you to it.”

“What is my destiny?” I asked.

Change smiled, but said nothing.  He rose his hand a little higher, and I took it.  Immediately there were swirls of blackness surrounding me.  I slammed onto the carpet of my bedroom floor, knocking over my desklamp – dumping the sand in my zen garden all in my hair.

“Damnit, Change,” I said, but he wasn’t with me.

Change always hurts; one way or another… I heard in my head, and giggled despite myself.

I plopped myself down in front of my computer, and couldn’t help but noticing the stack of parchment papers on my desk.  I knew what they were instantly.  I’d written some of them myself.  They were the pages to “The Taftkan Materials” – our novel – but I had left the book in Taftka!  Rhiannon was supposed to work on it today.

Your time has come… the words reverberated in my mind.

I picked up my cell phone.  I punched 42-314 and hit call – sending magic along with the signal.

“Hello?”

“Rhiannon, I have the story,” I said.

“Oh thank GOD!” she said.  “I was scared half to death when I found all the pages missing in the book.”

“Yeah, I have them here,” I said.  “I think I need to work on the story today.”

“It makes sense that it came to you,” said Rhiannon.  “I could only vaguely see the next part.”

“But you inspired me with your notes,” I said.  “I think this is going to come out easily.”

Previous | Rhiannon’s Side of the Story | Next

Books on Foot

I either have a trickster in my office or these curses were not broken like they should have been! I suppose the book could’ve grown legs and wandered off on its own, considering the sheer amount of magic surrounding the Treehouse Office.

The day started pretty normally: punched a knot in the wall of the Tree and coffee appeared in a little compartment underneath. This is definitely my favorite addition to the office; I love that it changes each time we show up, usually after saying something the night before like, “Jeez, I wish we had paper generator.” Next day, there were several stacks of different types of paper lined up on a desk we’d never seen before with a machine next to it that never existed before. It actually smiled at us when we stopped to marvel at it!

Anyways, as I was saying, I got my delicious coffee (the Tree knows exactly how I like it, and even added a little nut flavoring today – exactly what I was in the mood for!), and sat at the desk. My plan was to work through some issues in our book. I opened the big leather-bound book left on my desk by Joey. Normally, the book saves everything we write and we can edit passages by tapping what we want to move and point where it should go. However, I opened the book and there was nothing! I checked the cover again and it said, “The Taftkan Materials,” but all the pages were gone, like they shed their skin and took off running.

. . . I just got a call from Joey (our Tree has a phone, though most of Taftka would be thoroughly confused by it; we needed a way to communicate if we weren’t both in Taftka at the same time). The book ran to his place! Apparently I was not meant to write the next part. I hope he has more luck with this tricky text than I did, today!

Previous | Joey’s Side of the Story

On the Threshold of Change

Flying without magical tools is a unique experience.  There was no wind in my face or hair, yet I saw the Pine Giants bend and sway in it’s bellowing.  Another strange aspect about this flight was it’s speed.  I wasn’t moving any faster than walking pace, but I was out of the city with a couple bats of an eye.  I was crossing grassy hills and jagged mountains without time to notice any details.

If the flight took any length of time at all, it was lost on me.  When I landed I stared at the building in front of me.  The windows were round and strange.  A tower rose in the center, crowned with a clock reading the same early afternoon time as the clock on Harth Home Hospital.

Without a thought to what lay on the inside of this building, I walked up to the wooden and weathered front door.  The stone mantle above the door had four words carved into it, “Your Time Has Come,” and as soon as the words were read the door flung itself open revealing a room lit by rainbows.

Previous | Next

On the Road to Change

Things can be funny in Taftka.  An ordinary door can be just that for a hundred thousand Taftkan citizens, but for one…it can be extraordinary.

I walked out of Harth Home Hospital with Ryan eight days ago, and I felt like I’d transformed.  A cool wind caressed Castle City – great gusts began to blow the hollow helicopter pods from the Pine Giants.  The wind was always magical in Taftka.  There was a sign in it for everyone who noticed it.  I caught the scent of the sea on a gust cutting in front of us.

I knew what I had to do.  I stopped walking, and it took Ryan a couple paces before he realized what I’d done.  My hands were glowing magical fire.  The magic of my Dragon – Forest Moon – reflected on everything around us.

“Goodbye,” I said, without explanation…but what would he think if I did tell him?  I don’t know.  It’s none of my business.

I rose into the air unaided by broom or any other tool of flight.  I knew where I was going, but I didn’t know.  I was being called by a change, and it was really about time Change and I met.

Previous | Next