| | Dare I to introduce this account with the Homeric words Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero[ine] who travelled far and wide in the attempt to find the perfect opening? Perhaps. Or not, depending on the aetherial winds that do blow in with the light of day. Cruel Apollo, how did you become the patron of the arts? Your bright rays shine harshly, brightly on all, driving the delicate and fleeting thoughts of night into the shadows. Better Artemis to be the gentle patroness of these letters. Which is what this account shall be. Letters written and set adrift on the arcane electric seas of the computer realm. Dear... But to whom shall they be written? Myself, lovers, potential lovers, or just to the muses? For those curious eyes that wander the electric seas and find themselves touching briefly upon these shores? For all of the above. Yes for all of those I would whisper to on the wind, in the sound of the sea, in the moonlight, from the sun dancing on wave top...
Usually about this time of year, I'm talking about the latest NaNoWriMo project that is in the works. This year, there isn't one. It is staying that way. I have enough to finish and polish without bringing a new project into the world. However, as I was writing in my morning pages, I was getting my priorities and ideals for the coming new year together and wrote that November is going to be my personal NaNoWitchMo [TM]. I wanted to find a composition book that has blank, unlined pages, I know they make them because I used to have one, but I cannot find any and today decided that I don't need one. I have a regular composition book, blank paper, and a stapler... I am set to go! It is going to be a productively interesting November *wink* | |
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So Chelsea whomped Blackburn 5 - 0 and earlier scored 4 goals to win matchday 2 in UEFA's Champions League.
Carlo! Why the hell weren't the grandpas doing this last year in Mee-lahn?!?!?!??!??!!
*headdesk* | |
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I am just finishing up tweaking the settings on my new 19" monitor.
One of the Elder Beastie's high school friends [and my semi-adopted son] is back in town for a visit after moving out to San Francisco to pursue his dreams, and came for a visit today. He looks great! He's happy! And, he's really grown to be a fine young man. I was so happy to see him, and the beasties were overjoyed as well.
After he left, I took said beasties to Bowe's for their WarHammer, etc. and when I got home there was a box on my doorstep. That Noel [and no, no accent over the e, he is No-el, not Nole] had to have dropped it off. Before he left, he was always the techno-genie and hooking everyone up with gadgets because that is what he loves to do.
We're going to have to have him over for dinner to say thank you. | |
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While I've finished the book, I haven't posted the questions so quickly this time round. Part of it is the laxity of discipline that I've admittedly allowed myself to slide into, but a more significant part of it is the increasingly personal nature of the questions. To be frank, many of them I am just more comfortable working out in my morning pages and not even posting them as private entries. But, as I've begun the process of posting the questions and realise that some are curious to see what the rest of them are, I will post the rest of the questions.
On the whole, I will be rereading the book and re-examining some earlier questions. IT is a lot to take in in one reading, and there are things that I do not so easily accept as valid debate points, but that too is good because I help clarify my own thoughts to explain why I do not necessarily agree with a point.
Today I added the Lilith section. Over the next week, I will add the other 3 sections and post when they are completed. | |
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 Thank you. Operation Keep Connected is full swing. The Thanksgiving holiday week will not be a black-hole of incommunicado doom. - Mood:grateful

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I've done this before, but long enough ago that I might as well try it again.
The problem with on-line blogs: We all think we are so close, but really we know nothing about one another. So I want you to ask me something you think you should know about me. Something that should be obvious, but you have no idea about. So.....ask away!
Then post this in your blog and find out what people don't know about you. | |
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It is a grey day, but that is a-okay with me. The beasties are at the theatre with McMuffin watching Zombieland and I am finishing up the last of the tweaks for the Seahawk.
It took a bit of doing, but I finally got the printer installed without all the bells and whistles that HP packs into the drivers. And the anti-virus is being reinstalled as I type, so *knocks wood* we are very close to 100% functionality.
Now, the hard part... getting myself organised. | |
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Well, 1/2 of the computers are back. Hooray!
The Seahawk Mach 1 is flying well. *pats the ancient HP Pavillion* The only small complaint I have is the monitor, we had to buy a new LCD one, and I haven't been able to get it to adjust to more than 800 x 600 resolution, but, for now, I am not complaining. I know that I will have to tweak and fiddle to get things to display as I am used to, but I can do that. It is far easier than sharing the elder beasts notebook with the beasties.
Less hassle, too!
Now, to start downloading the essentials like Firefox, Trillian, etc. | |
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There has to be something in the high school. The beastie is home again with pink-eye and a fever. The beastiette is coughing, and I've resigned myself to the idea that my cough might be getting company. Stocked up on herbals and tea, soup making supplies, and plenty of juices and teas. We'll be snug and warm this long weekend.
Supper is on the go... pot roast... quick, yummy, and easy, so I might just go take a warm bath and relax for 1/2 hour so I can actually stay awake and have the energy to chat tonight.
Still waiting on word from the repair places on the other computers. An exercise in patience, yes, but one that is now getting old. | |
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This week is over, thankfully, and the worst of it wasn't quite as bad as I thought.
The beasties and I decided to not tell Elder Beast the news about Barbie until he was feeling better. So, he asked how she was. I couldn't lie to him on the phone. He cried a little, and so did we, but he seemed okay when he hung up.
The cough is still here, lingering and making me miserable. Next Monday, hell or high water, I'm walking again and working on getting my energy back.
We're down to one computer for the three of us. It is challenging, especially with homework obligations, but I hope to have some good news from HP soon. The old tower computer is out at the shop, too, getting upgrades so *knocks wood* it will be ready to be picked up this coming week, as well. Then we'll be able to get back to the normal routines.
Muse-wise... I know that I need to get back to Izzy, Roby, and Gwynne. I'm getting itchy and irritated from this lung-gunk, so I am hoping that means the fug is continuing to burn off.
Supper now, and to read and get caught up. | |
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I'll need to get the photos I have of her off the mobile and posted up here at some point. She went this morning in her sleep, without suffering, and will be deeply and greatly missed. | |
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Was slept through.
Looking at the UEFA site, I might not have missed much...
Somehow, none of the matches are tempting me enough to shell out $1.99 to watch a replay courtesy of UEFA's video on demand service.
Am really trying to hold-off on taking my cough syrup. I think once we're back from the library, though, I'm taking it and getting a cat nap in before supper. Or, I could take beastiette's... sans codeine. Hmmm. | |
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After a few rounds of telephone tag, I managed to sort out that the notebook is under warranty still, and have a service call in place for it.
Let's hope that this goes well.
And now... more soup and a bit more rest. | |
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Holy Christ!
Whatever germs the beasties brought home from school, they knocked the life out of me. Almost literally I would have sworn yesterday. It snuck up on me Sunday night, and I knew something bad was on the way on Monday, but yesterday I was weaker than a kitten.
I'm just glad I had a doctor's appointment re the BP meds already scheduled. At 9:15 am... that was cruel and I'm amazed I made it. But, he gave me a script for cough medicine with codeine [with one free refill! Bless him.] and I slept almost 22 hours solid.
Today am feeling well enough change the bed linens... you can tell someone was sick... and showered the funk off myself. Still aching in spots and feeling weak, but I'm hoping that another day of resting up will get me back to normal [or what passes for it] tomorrow.
Now to worry about getting my laptop fixed. Meredith reported that the power source isn't powering up, and dammit if she isn't right. Hope the extended warranty covers that. Cross your fingers and wish me luck. | |
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 It starts with the single breath of a word~
Bere'sit...
In the Beginning, we collected ourselves as best we could within the broken shells of the world. We gathered our scant technology that the inundation left to us and the surveyors set out across the waters to the unformed lands. There they beheld a miracle and looked with pleasure upon ha'shemim [the Highlands] and arez [the Lowlands].
Yet as the surveyors told us, the Lowlands were an empty region, with no souls living there and no charts which described the low lying valley. The Seven Lords of the Counsel and the Seven Great Ladies of Wisdom agreed declaring, "Let us enlighten ourselves of the wonders of this land."
So it came to pass that we crossed the waters to gather once more and begin the work of rebuilding our society on the heights that had been selected. As the great halls were constructed from the cedar trees of the heights, the surveyors slowly moved outward and left their markers where they distinguished between ha'orhas [the known] and hashakhas [the unknown]. The known lands we called Yom and the unknown Laylah: the Lands of Day and of Night.
There was singing and dancing from the evening until the morn... the first stage was now complete.
The Seven Lords of Counsel and the Seven Great Ladies of Wisdom came together once more and looked down and out upon Laylah. Enki, the Lord of the Sweet Waters, and Ningikuga, the Lady of the Pure Reed, spoke their thoughts aloud, "Let there be constructed a great vault in the middle of the river's waters, and let it so divide the upper waters from the lower waters." And so it was done; the great wall that rose shining to the heavens was called ha'shemim [the Heights], and all who looked upon it did so in wonder.
There was singing and dancing from the evening until the morn... the second stage was now complete. | I met you last night in a dream.
I found myself walking with an acquaintance down some dull street, crowded with modern flats and buildings which looked down upon us from their kingdom of ugliness, fighting our way against the currents of people who were as grey as the city which surrounded them. Our conversation was lost among the noise, which made no matter as my acquaintance was more interested in reciting the inventory of the large paper bags printed with upscale logos that contained a king's ransom of trendy flotsam. It was then that the sound cut through the numb haze I blanketed myself with... it was your laugh, but I did not know it then.
"What's down here?" I asked where a small pedestrian way opened between the buildings. "Let's go see."
My suggestion was met with an expression of doubt, as if offended that something so humble as a walking path should dare try to trespass upon the territory of the broad asphalt rivers of the city streets. "Nothing special," came the reply, voice matching well the expression of affronted boredom.
"Come on," I urged. By then the sense of adventure was rising, and it was only fair that I be allowed to indulge my interests after indulging those of my acquaintance, after struggling so long pretending to enjoy this excursion.
"I don't want to," came the petulant answer, "besides, there is a place that I have been dying to get you into. You're going to-" The look on disbelief on her face was monumental to see, and as if you could see it, another echo of your laughter beckoned me to follow my instinct and turn. "I can't believe you."
That was fine and true. You see, I was not supposed to assert myself or disrupt the plans of others, for I was the kind one, the tender one, the good-hearted one who behaved as the perfect friend should do. "Not this time," I had answered. I would not remain silent and abandon my desires. Oh how that hurt! Poor creature could not endure my denial in those three words; the horrible truth is that people often get used to goodness, to tenderness, and then they take it for granted and abuse it. And then they gape at you like fish out of water when you do not budge from your stance.
"Fine. Suit yourself." The words came out as an accusation, a challenge, and I let them wash off of me. There are words worthy of attention and caring, and these fell into neither category. "You are such a peculiar person." The last crushing words came floating back to me on the wind; only they made me smile as I turned to walk down the passageway. The words made no difference to me as I walked, they could not change anything; not my decision to take this path and certainly not who I am. Peculiar or not. |
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 This story is meant to be read side-by-side as the sense of then and now twine round each other in the telling and recollecting. This is an experiment, and I hope that it works. If not, then I will need to take suggestions and/or find inspiration when I take it back to the drawing board. This story is just that... a story. It is not meant to be serious historical research nor a commentary on any religious views, gospel, or opinions. I have used the names I did because they touch the creative muse that keeps this story unfolding in my mind. Thank you, and I hope that you enjoy my words. ~*~Table of Contents: Part IPart IIPart III | |
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 The first column.
"Neque porro quisquam est qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit..."
| This is the second.
"There is no one who loves pain itself, who seeks after it and wants to have it, simply because it is pain..."
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Layout testing, you see. I'm getting organised. Slowly but surely. A bit like my house. ETA: Header image. I can live with this as the idea I have for the At the Headwaters of Eden* posts are parallel dreams/remembrances. I'm sure it would look much better on paper, but that will come in the fullness of time. *Yes, it is called Between Darkness and Dawn at Pan, but that is for brevity's sake. | |
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You Are the 1970s
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You are a free-wheeling, fun-loving person. You are out for a good time.
You appreciate the libertine days of the 1970s, when the attitude was "anything goes"!
You may live fast and die young, but at least you'll have fun doing it.
Times may be tough, but you hardly notice. You know how to make the best of things.
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LJ takes stupid to a whole new level with this one: Major Notes: Your Journal - Your Money Your Journal - Your Money debuts. What part of no ads do they think this caters to? One, I wouldn't put Google ads on my journal, and two, I'd probably stop visiting journals that do have them. I'm there to read and respond with my friends, not make them feel pressured to buy a paid account to make back pennies on their dollars. I'd call them morons, but by now, that would just be insulting other morons. | |
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There are few specific artists that I reserve for certain muses. In the broadest possible way, I enjoy listening to a wide variety of artists as I write. A short list would be: Arcana, Rome, Ulf Soderberg, Atargatis, Eyes of Eden, Sinamore, Eluveitie, Lacrimas Profunda, Hexentanz, Rune Dance, Clan of Xymox, Therion, etc. But for specific muses, I do have artists that I go to first and foremost. Right now, I am writing Malvagita Bella for Isabel and am listening exclusively to Rhea's Obsession. There is great beauty in their lyrics and music, and just a hint darkness under the surface. Much like life, really: so much bright and beautiful to be seen and heard, but hidden currents that speak of winters to come, of harvests to be made, and of things hidden beyond our ken. Fitting for listening to when telling tales of Isabel's early life. I also listen to Renaissance pieces when I need inspiration. I particularly like the works of Carlo Gesualdo... not so much for the works themselves, which are gorgeous, but for the man behind the pen. Click the link, really. He is one of music's most infamous composers. For Gwynne, I am listening to Irfan. They sound mediaeval and are richly layered, like a tapestry. And, much like Gwynne, I appreciate the sacred quality to the pieces especially as they are not limited to the Christian ideals of the Divine as Gregorian chant is. For another muse that is not in play here at LJ, I listen to Ulf Soderberg, more specifically his band Sephiroth, and the albums Cathedron and Draconian Poetry. Wild, tribal, primal... oh yes. If you ever want to feel like you are running through the jungles of Eden and along the primordial shores of the boundless sea, this is the music that will take you there. When I need for any muse to feel unhinged, pissed-off beyond belief, grieving from the depths of the heart and soul, or just madder than a hatter... for that, there is only one: the incomparable Diamanda Galás. | |
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